Born into Nixon, I was raised in hell.
A welfare child where the teamsters dwell.
The last one born, and the first one to run.
My dad was blind from the firery sun.

My generation is zero.
I never made it as a working class hero.
21st century breakdown.
I once was lost but never was found.
I think I'm losing what's left of my mind
To the 20th century deadline.

I was made of poison and blood.
Condemnation is what I understood.
Videogames and a childless blow.
Homeland security could kill us all.

My generation is zero.
I never made it as a working class hero.
21st century breakdown.
I once was lost but never was found.
I think I'm losing what's left of my mind
To the 20th century deadline.

We are the cries of the class of thirteen.
Born in the era of humility.
We are the desperate in the decline.
Raised by the bastards of 1969.

My name is Samuel, the long lost son.
Born on the 4th of July.
Raising the era of heroes and cons.
Left me for dead or alive.
I am a nation, a worker, a pawn.
My debt to the status quo.
The scars on my hands are a means to an end.
It's all that I have to show.

I've swallowed my pride and I've shut down my faith.
I'll give you my heart and my soul.
I pucker my fingers, and walk through my teeth
the mirror of damage control
I've been through the edge and I turned out okay
the father's look over the grave
I sat in the weeding, your wasting my time
The weeding was judge to pay

Race to the dead
Freedom to obey
is a song that strangles me
Well, don't cross the line

Praise, Liberty
The freedom to obey
It's a song that strangles me
Well, don't cross the line

Oh dream, American dream.
I can't leave and see from rainstorms 'til dawn.
Oh scream, America scream.
Believe what you read from heroes and cons.---Lyrics submitted by Abigail.